Leo didn’t remember. Part of the curse of his PTSD was apparently that his brain retained every memory that hurt and left no room for the little things that made life special. It wasn’t a symptom that Leo had noticed until he’d begun to emerge from the haze of his Darren Stroud–induced meltdown, but it was one he could live with, even if it did mean asking Charlie the same questions a hundred times a day. “How’s school?”
“Who cares about school? How was court? Did it go okay?”
Leo glanced at Reg, and then turned away from him slightly, shoving his cap back so he could rest his head on the window. “It was fine. Not as bad as I expected. They asked me a bunch of questions and I answered them.”
“What kind of questions?”
“The ones we talked about, you know—the drinking, how long he’d been hitting Mum for, how often he hit me. Some other shit too.”
“Like what?”
“If he ever did any weird sexual stuff. I told them he didn’t, but I don’t know if they believed me.”
There was rustling at Charlie’s end, and then the sound of a teacher talking sternly, though it didn’t seem to be directed at Charlie.
“Why wouldn’t they believe you?” Charlie asked after a protracted pause.
Leo shrugged, even though Charlie couldn’t see him. “It felt like they wanted me to make it worse than it was. Like what happened wasn’t bad enough on its own.”
“Did that upset you?”
“No. Damn. You sound like Reg.” Beside Leo, Reg chuckled. Leo spared him a glance before he returned his attention to Charlie, who remained silent. “I didn’t mean to be dickish.”
Charlie sighed. “I know. I just worried about you today. It’s not fair that you had to go through it all again. Why couldn’t they just use your statement?”
Leo smiled, because despite the heavy content of the conversation, the fierceness with which Charlie often protected him warmed his slowly healing heart. “It had to be done. And now it is.”
“Will you know when the trial is over?”
“Yeah. Carol is going to call Reg.”
More silence, and Leo knew that Charlie was considering whether Dennis might get off—that he’d be found not guilty and come back to haunt Leo and Lila—but Leo wasn’t worried about that. The evidence against Dennis was bulletproof. The bastard was going down, and with any luck, he’d stay down until he was too old to bother anyone but the nurses wiping his arse in a care home.
The negative train of thought took him to the doorway of the dark place his therapist had taught him to avoid. Leo closed his eyes and counted Charlie’s breaths, pictured him at home, sitting at the kitchen table with Lila, sketching flowers and ponies, and sighing with mock exasperation when Lila made him colour everything pink. Watching them like that was Leo’s happy place—one of them, at least.
How lucky you are to have so many.
Leo opened his eyes. “I’m fine, Charlie. Honest. Please don’t worry about me.”
“I do try not to. Are you going home now?”
Leo glanced at Reg and repeated the question. Reg nodded. “We just need to stop at B&Q.”
“What for?”
“Screws. Then we can finish the goalposts this afternoon.”
Leo couldn’t hide his glee. While he’d recovered at home—and been suspended from Heyton High—Reg had taken a leave of absence from his teaching job to homeschool Leo so he didn’t get behind. For three months, the boring lessons had taken over most mornings, but after lunch, Reg had often taken Leo out to the garage and let him play around with the huge array of tools stored in there, and Leo remained surprised at how much he enjoyed it.
And though he’d been back at school awhile now, the best part was still to come. Their latest project—a set of goalposts for the garden—was nearly finished, and suddenly, Leo couldn’t wait to be home. He said good-bye to Charlie and settled back into his seat, unable to contain his excited grin. In return, Reg smiled and turned on Radio Two.
“Kate and I are taking Lila to her first speech therapy session tonight. If we finish the goalposts, perhaps you can convince Charlie to have a kick around in the garden?”
Leo snorted. His own passion for football was slowly returning, but he’d yet to persuade Charlie that it was an activity they could share.“Give them a ball each,”he’d said, much to Leo’s disgust. “I think he’d rather go to the woods.”
“Then do that instead. Either way, get out in the sun. Kate worries about you both being cooped up with the Xbox.”
“Kate worries too much.”
